


Living

by AutumnVine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Edelgard Lives, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Hate Sex, Post-Church Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), References to Depression, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Relationships, silver snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnVine/pseuds/AutumnVine
Summary: “Look at you,” Edelgard whispers, lips pressed against the Queen’s neck. “Maybe I should rule through you. How easily I could make you my puppet, like I was theirs.”The only response Byleth gives is a whimper.She then bares her teeth, pushing the incisors against thin flesh. It wasn’t her intent to draw blood, just to make her squirm a little.Now Byleth whimpers again, but this time in genuine pain, and Edelgard has to resist the urge to fullyhurther for everything she had done. She would deserve nothing less.They both would.---Or; Edelgard lives, and she isn't happy about it.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 23
Kudos: 129





	Living

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning; Sexual content, discussion and references to depression and suicidal ideation, as well as the depiction of an unhealthy relationship between two consenting adults. 
> 
> Please take care of yourself first and foremost.

It’s slightly past the witching hour when the door to Byleth’s bedroom opens and a slim figure steals inside. 

That the door hadn’t been locked was an implicit sign of her consent, and the interloper wastes no time crossing the floor to the bed in which the Queen of Fódlan slumbered wide awake. 

Without hesitation, the figure slips under the covers and sidles up to her, an arm snaking around Byleth’s waist, breath warm against her neck. 

“My teacher,” Edelgard whispers, feeling the shiver of the former professor’s body with those words. 

She still doesn’t quite know how the last Emperor of Adrestia always managed to evade her guards and find her way here. Anyone else might have worried for their safety, especially given Edelgard’s prior actions. Even Byleth had given it some thought each and every time they met like this. 

Perhaps the inherent danger only made it more exciting. 

A hand reaches its way between her thighs, and Byleth lets out a slight whimper in anticipation. That was all the encouragement Edelgard needed, and she eases herself into the Queen with two fingers. 

“This is what you desire, isn’t it?” Edelgard asks, already knowing the answer. Her motions are rough, angry almost. But it is what Byleth wants, and she pants from the effort. 

How long had they been doing this now? Months, maybe half a year? The taste of that first kiss always lingers on Byleth’s lips, the ghost of a memory that shouldn’t exist. Her soul had been ensnared that day, and Edelgard knew it. 

If the knowledge of this affair ever leaked, she knew it would be destructive to their fledgling government. Public resentment towards the former Emperor was still high, and even her most ardent supporters would be hard-pressed to accept such an illicit relationship. Maybe that was what Edelgard was counting on, but she still kept the secret, same as Byleth. 

“I wonder… if I stopped, would you beg me not to?” Edelgard poses the question each time, and though she’s never acted on it, Byleth knows what her answer would be. But she doesn’t stop, and the pace continues unabated. 

It was improper, allowing the woman who had until recently been hellbent on their destruction to hold this much power over her. Yet she did, because now it was the only control over her own life that Edelgard was permitted to have. 

“Are you close, my teacher?” Byleth nods, unable to vocalize a real response. 

Fingers curling inwards, Edelgard increases the intensity just enough to bring her to the edge and then over it. As Byleth moans and quivers, she withdraws herself, wiping the evidence on the Queen’s robe. 

“This is all that I’m good for, isn’t it?”

But she’s already left the bed, hand on the doorknob. One last look is all she gives before softly closing it behind her, leaving Byleth in the silence and darkness. 

—

The next time they meet is far more formal. She puts in a lot of effort to make the small courtyard table look presentable, picking out the finest set of silverware and porcelain. A pot of freshly brewed bergamot accompanies the small treats she also laid out. Even now, she still knew it to be Edelgard’s favorite. 

Just in time the guest of honor arrives, escorted by her guard for the day. This time it was Caspar, and he gives Byleth a nod before standing at attention out of earshot. The former Emperor looks at the table, then to her host, glaring all the while. 

“Thank you for coming, Edelgard,” Byleth says, hoping that will ease the ever-present tension somewhat. 

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice,” she replies, not moving to sit down. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress of bright crimson, hair tied back in a simple ponytail. The gloves on her hands, a stark white, stand out amidst the reds of her clothing and the green of the gardens. 

“You always have a choice.” Though Byleth does wonder if that was true or not, given the new differences between them. So she decides to just remove the element of decision-making from the process. “Now sit.” 

Edelgard chuckles darkly at the sudden contrast and obeys. She takes a cookie, nibbling on it while ignoring the tea. 

“So, _Your Majesty_ , what did you want from me?” 

The way she mockingly uses Byleth’s title always struck exactly the nerve she wanted it to. _Your Majesty_ in public, _My teacher_ in private, the two worlds they had relegated themselves to living in. She wasn’t sure which was supposed to hurt more.

“I just wanted to talk, that’s all.” 

“Then talk. I’m not a mind-reader,” Edelgard retorts. 

Biting back her tongue, Byleth pauses for a moment to collect herself. She was so used to being surrounded by friends, allies and sycophants that Edelgard’s thinly-veiled hostility always took some getting used to. 

“I’m working through some of the major Church reformation efforts with Seteth,” she finally manages to say, “and I’d like your opinion on how to best incorporate them into former Adrestian territory.” 

“You want my advice?” 

“I do. Even if I weren’t speaking of your nation of birth, you are still one of the most politically-minded people I know,” Byleth explains. 

Edelgard parses through the request with a frown, leaning back in her chair. “Then you already know my response.” The corners of her mouth twitch ever so slightly. “Burn it all down.”

There it was, the same answer she always gave when asked; _Burn it all down_. Even in defeat, her opposition to the Church of Seiros never wavered, only intensifying with time. 

“Edelgard, please. I know damn well that you’ve thought about this. Don’t tell me what the Flame Emperor would do… I want to hear what _you_ would.” 

“You…” Edelgard sighs, crossing her arms together as she levies a baleful gaze in Byleth’s direction. “Fine. Do you know what I would really do? Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Don’t force anything on the people. Let the faithful decide what they wish to adopt, and if they reach out, offer help. But otherwise, keep religion out of Adrestia, at least for now.” 

Byleth nods to herself, committing that to memory. “Thank you Edelgard.” She takes a sip of bergamot to wash it down. “Would you be averse to me asking for help more often?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t, Your Majesty.” 

“Excuse me?” Byleth sets her teacup down, confused. 

“I’m aware of what you’re trying to do, and I don’t want it.” 

“And what exactly am I _trying to do_?” 

With an audible grunt of displeasure, Edelgard narrows her eyes at the Queen. The piercing lilac of her irises penetrate to the depth of her very being, tearing Byleth apart and reassembling her a hundred times in a hundred seconds. It’s disquieting not to understand what she sees when looking at her. 

“You want to placate me,” Edelgard finally says. “To appease and win me over by making it seem as though I’m contributing something, rather than wasting away in that cell you call a room.” 

Stunned into silence, Byleth swallows down a half-hearted denial. 

“Ah, nothing to say? That’s better than a lie, I suppose.” Edelgard leans forward, hands folded together neatly. “Or did you think I would appreciate your false attempts to stroke my ego?” 

“That’s not… Edelgard, I value your input, truly,” Byleth tries to explain. 

“A falsehood then. If that were true, I wouldn’t be here right now.” 

Before she’s even realized it, Byleth’s fists are clenched together, her teeth grit against themselves. It hadn’t taken them long to reach this topic; like always, it found its way into any extended conversation of theirs, either by happenstance or force.

“What happened in Enbarr has nothing to do with this.” 

“It has _everything_ to do with it,” Edelgard insists. “My entire life now exists on the decision you made. Maybe you can pretend it doesn’t matter, but to me, it always will.” 

“Then let me help… I know there’s a place for you here. With us, with…” _With me,_ Byleth wants to say, but is unable to. 

Edelgard, ever the master of the unspoken word, just looks at her in disbelief. 

“A place? You think…” She shakes her head as if to dispel the absurdity of that statement. “There’s no place for someone like me in your new Fódlan.” 

“That isn’t true,” Byleth attempts to say in defense of the country she now led. “We fought to bring people together, not push them further apart.” 

“You brought them together _against_ me. How do you think they will take to my involvement in any capacity?” 

“Edelgard… you aren’t as reviled as you assume. People will understand, especially if you try to make amends.” 

But as those last few syllables roll off her tongue, Byleth realizes just how hollow that sounds. Because… 

“Amends?” Edelgard says the word like it was poison. “I offered you the single greatest form of reparation that I could. And you refused it.” 

… She was weak, Byleth knows, far too much to follow through on what had been asked of her. The former Emperor was right; she had refused, and her sword struck marble instead of flesh and bone. 

And now Edelgard had to live with the consequences of someone else’s actions. In a way, it was her greatest nightmare come true, losing complete control on a scale she had experienced only once before. 

Byleth at least hoped she was a kinder captor than Thales. 

“Edelgard, listen, I… I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, and I have no intention of doing so. But there is a future out there for you,” she reiterates. “I know there is.” 

The silver-haired girl looks as though she wants to argue, but just closes her mouth instead, lips pursed tightly. There’s a momentary expression of pain that Byleth can feel in her own being. 

“You should have buried me alongside my siblings,” she eventually mutters in a whisper. “Or in Hubert’s unmarked grave.” 

Rising to her feet, the table jostles as the once-Emperor steps back. Her expression betrays nothing. “Thank you for the tea, Your Majesty,” she says, looking down at the untouched beverage. With that, Edelgard walks away and past Caspar, who scrambles to chase after her. 

Even in the heat of the approaching summer, Byleth feels very cold.

—

A week later Edelgard returns in the dead of night. 

This time Byleth is waiting for her, stripped down completely and on her knees. Not bothering to take off her own clothes, Edelgard steps forward and places a strong hand underneath the Queen’s chin, forcing her to meet the resentful expression she wore. 

“I can’t tell which of us is worse,” the former Emperor whispers. 

They don’t waste any time. Roughly, Edelgard bends Byleth over and takes her from behind, reaching out with her free hand to cup the older woman’s breasts. There’s no shame involved; both want this more than either needs to say aloud. 

Each stroke of her fingers, every moan produced feels like a restoration of her lost power, and Edelgard hates how much she loves it. 

For Byleth, the pleasure momentarily lifts the guilt from her shoulders. 

At some point they switch positions, with Byleth laid out on her back as Edelgard lowers herself between her legs. She’s just as effective with her tongue, and soon enough the sovereign ruler of Fódlan is completely at her mercy. 

Again she contemplates making Byleth beg, and again she ignores that innate desire to be cruel and withhold her climax. Making her old professor feel good in bed… even Edelgard couldn’t deny it had been on her mind over those long years. 

Just not like this. 

So she lets her ride it out in full, gently coaxing Byleth back down after the height of pleasure had been reached. Wiping herself off with a corner of the sheets, Edelgard readies to leave. 

A hand on her wrist stops her. 

“Please Edelgard, stay,” Byleth begs, her eyes averted slightly. 

“Is that an order, my teacher?” 

“Yes,” she replies, hating herself for it. 

But Edelgard just nods, then slides into bed alongside her. She positions an arm under Byleth’s side and another around her waist, holding her close. 

Neither speak further before falling asleep. 

—

Both wake early in the morning, and Byleth decides to keep Edelgard out of trouble by escorting her back personally. The stationed guards show some confusion at the presence of the Kingdom’s most well-known prisoner of war this far into the main building, but none give her trouble. 

Edelgard’s quarters were kept at the old student dorms, furthest away from prying eyes. Her room was actually a combination of two, the wall having been knocked down to create more space. It had been Byleth’s idea, based on what she knew about the things that made her former student comfortable. 

The room was sparse of decoration, a neat pile of books in one corner and a small plant on the windowsill. Magical reinforcements had been applied to the glass, though Edelgard hadn’t apparently felt the need to test their limitations. 

All the furniture was crafted from steel, to prevent it from being broken down and used as a weapon. Seteth had ordered it done, and Byleth easily agreed with him, but for very different reasons than his suspicion at the former Emperor's hostility. 

In fact, it was hardly any different from how Edelgard kept her quarters back as a student. Bare and uncluttered. 

“Something on your mind, Your Majesty?” The question jolts Byleth out of her distracted thoughts, and she shakes her head. 

“No, just… curious, I suppose.” 

“About how I keep escaping?” 

Byleth nods. 

“That will remain my secret,” Edelgard replies without amusement. “Though you needn’t worry, as I have no intention of fleeing completely.” 

“Why not?” 

Sitting down on the bed, Edelgard begins brushing her long hair, looking anywhere but at Byleth. “Simple. I have nowhere to go.” 

Resisting the urge to sit next to her, Byleth leans against the door. “Just… be careful, please. I trust the guards here, but otherwise…” 

Edelgard frowns as she works through a particularly frustrating knot that had developed overnight. “If I get caught, I’ll accept the punishment for it.” She looks up. “Unless you want me to stop?” 

“No!” Byleth says a little too quickly, her face heating up. The old Edelgard might have laughed or blushed alongside her, but that was in the past. Not the stone-faced woman who sat across from her, sometimes more of a stranger than not. 

“Hmmm.” Putting the brush down, Edelgard opens the steel doors of her standing closet, sifting through her collection of similar colored dresses. “I’m going to change now, Your Majesty.” 

“Should I turn around?” 

A flash of lilac as Edelgard glares towards her. “I’d like you to watch.” 

So that’s what she does, observing closely as Edelgard slips off her wrinkled dress, standing now in just her breast bindings and petticoat. Byleth swallows at the sight of a large scar on her shoulder. 

The wound that brought the Empire to its knees. 

“You know,” Edelgard says as she touches the injury, “out of all the scars I have… I mind this one the least. After all, I did ask for it.” 

She pulls on a new dress, this one more black than red. It almost seems like she was in mourning, Byleth thinks to herself. 

“I… I think you look good, Edelgard.” 

An expression of incredulousness follows. 

“You really have nothing better to do, Your Majesty?” 

Byleth doesn’t respond to the bait. Instead she finally musters the courage to sit down on the edge of the bed, keeping her hands together. Both to her surprise and not, Edelgard follows suit. 

“Are things okay? I mean… do you need anything?” 

“I get three meals a day, any book that I ask for, and can go outside when the weather is nice.” That list felt rather short to Byleth, but Edelgard just shrugs. “Comparatively speaking, I’m treated well. Is that what you meant?” 

Nodding, Byleth looks down at her feet. Each time they would talk like this, the well of shame she could draw upon always seemed infinite. 

“I heard that Dorothea and Bernadetta visited you last month, when they were here.” 

“They did.” 

“Did you enjoy it, at least?” Byleth asks, wishing the younger woman would just offer those details instead of forcing her to fish for them. 

There’s no immediate response, but Edelgard raises a finger and points at the plant in the window. “Bernadetta brought me that. She said it would help with restlessness, if I had something to look after.” 

“And do you find that to be the case?” 

“I suppose so. It doesn’t require a lot of water, mostly light. Low-maintenance, she called it.” 

“What about Dorothea?” 

The songstress-turned-Brigid royalty had given Byleth enough information, but she wanted to hear it from Edelgard herself. 

“She was friendly as always. I… I had a good time,” the former Emperor admits with some reluctance. “It was a relief to hear that she’s flourishing in her new environment.” 

Humming, Byleth fidgets nervously in place. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

Silence fills the spaces between their words, and it eventually grows enough that it occupies the whole room. This was the most positive conversation she’s had with Edelgard in months, and she was scared to ruin it by speaking further. 

If her old student felt the same way, Byleth could only guess. 

—

“Sleeping pills?” 

Manuela nods. “About an entire bottle’s worth.” 

“And what’s in them?” 

“Hmm… crushed cannabis herbs, dried chamomile leaves, some finely ground arcane crystals, and cherry for flavor.” 

“… That works?” 

“Well, it’s still highly experimental, but the results are promising,” Manuela explains, “We actually got the idea from the cyanide capsules those Agarthan friends of yours used to carry.” 

Frowning, Byleth spins the tiny object between her fingers. 

“Are there any negative effects?” 

Getting to speak with her medical expertise brings a certain fire to the physician, and she puts a hand to the side of her face as if to say _of course, dummy._

“Like anything, it would be harmful in large doses. Sickness, even death.” 

Death… the possibility of the stolen items being used for harm concerns her. It almost reminds her of Hubert, and she doesn’t want that man’s face to haunt her outside of her own nightmares. “Who knows that you have them?” 

“Almost nobody, aside from Seteth and myself. I’ve run a few trial periods with people reporting insomnia or similar symptoms.” Manuela rummages around in a desk drawer, producing a small list. 

Byleth scans the names; some Knights of Seiros she didn’t recognize, a few guards, Shamir, Edelgard-

“Wait, Edelgard?” 

The former diva nods. “She mentioned having trouble sleeping at one of her check-ups, so I prescribed her a small amount. But she reported they made her feel ill, and we stopped.” 

“Did she… ask questions, about the medication?” 

“The same ones you did.” Manuela tilts her head, arms crossed together. “You think it was her, don’t you?” 

She really doesn’t want to, but every instinct was yelling out that it could only be one person. Her chest tightens. It can’t be her, she thinks, because if it was, then…

“Hey.” Manuela puts a comforting hand on Byleth’s upper arm. “Don’t go thinking the worst just now. People do stupid or dangerous things when in situations like this, just for the sake of doing anything at all. I may not know her as well as you, but I don’t think our girl plans to hurt anyone.” 

But it wasn’t other people that Byleth was worried about. 

—

“My teacher.”

Edelgard whispers the old title under her breath as she lowers herself over Byleth, bringing her lips to the ends of the older woman’s breasts. Almost playfully, she gives her a quick lick, then a small nip. 

Grunting in a poor attempt to disguise her moaning, Byleth looks into those violet eyes and tries to pretend that things are better than they actually are. 

Playing along, she guides a hand down the curves of Edelgard’s back, stopping to run circles on the lowest dip. She adored every part of her lover, but that little arch inwards drove her wild at times. 

“I don’t remember permitting you to touch me.” 

Hands encircling Byleth’s wrists, Edelgard effortlessly pins her down, clearly enjoying the act of doing so. 

“Much better.”

She brings her head back down, mouth covering as much of Byleth’s breast as she can. Her own pleasure came at the sight of the former professor’s heavy breathing, body rising and falling in the approaching throes of gratification. 

Always giving, never receiving. 

Eventually she does let one wrist go, but only to bring that hand further down, letting it linger on the open space just between her thighs. 

“Do you want me to touch you there, my teacher?” 

Byleth nods. 

And so she does, letting her fingers do all the work. If she had known how easy this was, she might have seriously considered it five years ago. 

But of course, there was a lot she might have done differently. 

“Look at you,” Edelgard whispers, lips pressed against the Queen’s neck. “Maybe I should rule through you. How easily I could make you my puppet, like I was theirs.” 

The only response Byleth gives is a whimper. 

She then bares her teeth, pushing the incisors against thin flesh. It wasn’t her intent to draw blood, just to make her squirm a little. 

Now Byleth whimpers again, but this time in genuine pain, and Edelgard has to resist the urge to fully _hurt_ her for everything she had done. She would deserve nothing less. 

They both would. 

Pulling away, Edelgard scoots down to the edge of the bed, knowing that the moment was ruined. She had pushed too far, and this night would go no further. Despite that there was no signs of anger or fear, just understanding, and it infuriated her. 

“Edelgard…” 

“Stop it,” she snaps, more unsettled than she was proud of. “I’ll leave.” 

“Hold a moment.” Byleth sits up fully, and even though she was naked and with a large bruise on her neck, she still manages to project a much different aura than earlier in their tryst. “I need to speak with you.” 

Edelgard does halt in her movement, and her eyes settle on the space next to the Queen. “What is it you want?” Yet the infliction in her voice suggests she already knows. 

Getting up, Byleth pulls on a robe of pure white and silver, the colors of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. It clashed horribly with the divine green of her hair, an irony she was well aware of. 

“Tomorrow, you will return what you stole to Manuela. She will not ask questions, nor will you be punished. But I cannot permit you to keep something like that in your possession.” 

She hates having to play this role. 

“Is that clear, Edelgard?” 

What Byleth hopes for is a quiet yet firm _Yes, my teacher._ She’s said it to her a hundred times, admittedly in far different contexts, but those exact words all the same. It would be easy, and they could both move on without having to-

“Don’t ask that of me, Your Majesty.” 

Oh. 

Byleth can feel her throat constrict, her breathing slow itself in response. Why did this have to happen? She didn’t want to discuss it, because that would mean she couldn’t ignore it any more. It was so incredibly selfish of her, she knew that. 

She didn’t want to acknowledge how much pain Edelgard was in. 

“I can’t let you hurt yourself.” 

An eyebrow is raised at the openness of her words. “Oh, have you finally decided to be honest with me? And here I was, fully prepared to offer some lie about wanting to poison you.” 

“ _Finally_? Edelgard, I-” 

“Save it, Your Majesty,” she interrupts with clear venom. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed? That the beams in my room were built over, or that the hanging rod in my closet only comes up to my chest? That I haven’t even been permitted a mirror?” 

“Edelgard, please…” But Byleth can hardly breath, having to lean against the wall to support herself. “I’m… just looking out for you.” 

It hadn’t been an easy decision to make, and in the end Byleth had faced a lot of opposition. If it were up to Seteth, she would have been cast into the furthest dungeon and forgotten about. Flayn had shown considerably more leniency, while Rhea remained oddly silent on the matter. 

But the exact conditions… those were left to the new monarch, and Byleth did what she thought was best. Clearly it wasn’t enough. 

The former Emperor laughs harshly. “I see how it is. It’s perfectly alright for me to break the terms of my imprisonment for the sake of being your _whore_ , but the moment I threaten to take that away from you, that’s when you speak up?” 

Ignoring the accusation, Byleth shakes her head. “I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret.” 

Edelgard rises from the bed, adjusting her disheveled clothing before stepping closer to Byleth. She has to look up to fully meet the older woman’s gaze, but she does so with fire in her eyes. 

“Am I supposed to be grateful for that?” 

_I don’t care_ , Byleth wants to scream, _I just want you to be safe._ Only now was she starting to understand that putting this conversation off for so long had just made things worse. Edelgard had been right to call her a coward immediately after the siege of Enbarr was over. 

“Of course not, but… if you’re planning something, I…” 

A hand reaches out to stroke the side of her face and Byleth shivers into it, closing her own eyes.

“How easily your resolve falters when it comes to me…am I really that special to you, Your Majesty?” 

Swallowing hard to gather courage that wouldn’t come, Byleth nods. “Yes.”

“Weak.” A pair of lips press themselves to her ear. “You always have been.” 

“I know.” Byleth allows her eyelids to flutter open. “But in the end… I was stronger than you.” She’s been wanting to say that for months now, and it felt far better than she would ever admit. 

Edelgard pulls away, offering an insincere smile. “Yes, I suppose you were.” Clasping her hands behind her back, she steps closer to the door. “How appropriate then, that we are both such failures.” 

That much she could agree with. Maybe their shared weakness was what drew them together in the first place, even in spite of everything. 

And in recognition of their abhorrent bond, Byleth extends one final olive branch. 

“Edelgard… I ask you one last time, return the stolen bottle. Don’t make me force it from you.” 

But _compromise_ was not a word that existed in her vocabulary, and she shakes her head with a genuine sense of sadness. 

”I can’t… I’m sorry, but I just can’t. Not willingly.” 

There’s so much torment in her voice that Byleth wants nothing more than to walk over and embrace her former student. But she knows that Edelgard would just rebuke her, and stays put, keeping silent. 

“It’s… It’s all I have left,” she explains. “Everything else has been taken from me… my ambitions, my throne, even my revenge…” Her hand comes to rest on the door-handle. “I wake up each day and all I can see myself as is a war trophy. _Your_ trophy.” 

Byleth wishes she could claim to have made that decision for less selfish reasons. 

“I was ready,” Edelgard continues, swaying gently in place. “When your forces took the palace, I had made my peace. It would be my choice, my final moment of control. And I thought… I hoped that you would respect that.” 

She trembles, just for a second. “But you took that from me too.”

_What other choice did I have,_ Byleth wants to argue, but she knows the answer already. For the first time, Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg had begged, only for it to fall on deaf ears. 

A small sigh falls from her lips. “Choosing the manner of my death… I can think of no greater freedom. It was my constant companion, all those years I spent under their thumb. When the war turned on me, I found comfort in those thoughts again.” 

Edelgard looks up, her violet irises brighter than Byleth remembers them being in months. 

“Do you want the truth, my teacher? It’s not that I want to die, but rather that I have no reason to live. And now that I no longer have a choice in the matter…” Her arms clutch around herself. “I feel so utterly trapped.” 

Like a dream, Byleth feels as though she’s an unwitting participant, watching the actions play out without any input of her own. Edelgard removes her hand from the door, stepping closer. 

“I hate you, for what you've done to me,” she says with absolute conviction. But she still raises herself on the ball of her foot and slowly kisses Byleth for the first time. 

The action is unhurried, methodical, years of anguish spoken between their lips. When Edelgard pulls away there’s a patch of wetness left on the Queen’s cheek as she whispers, “But… I think I love you too.” 

And then the mask breaks as she buries her head in Byleth’s shoulder, sobs wracking her body while the last Emperor of Adrestia weeps. 

—

The guards ransack Edelgard’s room in the morning. 

She stands to the side, expression blank and empty as they find the bottle of stolen pills hidden beneath a stack of books. Manuela takes them, gives the thief a sympathetic look, and leaves with the rest. 

Byleth helps her return everything back its proper place. Neither say a word to each other. When they finish, Edelgard just sits down on the bed and stares at her. 

There’s so much she wants to say, but the words die in her throat. This is how it has to be, Byleth tells herself. But that doesn’t make the guilt feel any less heavy. 

So she turns around and leaves, locking the door to Edelgard’s cell behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely apologize for the lack of general happiness in this story. This idea wormed its way into my head, and the only way to get it out was to write. I know the tone is completely different from my other stories. I’m sorry. 
> 
> There's some awkward POV shifts during the sex scenes, but hey, happy accident? They kinda work?
> 
> Apparently, this fic further cements that I have trouble writing anything that doesn’t involve some sort of captor/prisoner power dynamic. I don’t know what that says about me; nothing good I imagine. 
> 
> Not gonna lie, I view Byleth as the villain of this story. Not for refusing to kill Edelgard, but for being unable to offer the proper support that someone like her would need. I might write a happy(ish) ending sequel to this, if I end up feeling bad enough about it. Thank you for reading regardless!


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